


Over the Edge

by Isys Luna Skeeter (IsysSkeeter)



Series: Harrymort/Tomarry [31]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-24 15:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3774538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsysSkeeter/pseuds/Isys%20Luna%20Skeeter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry goes over the edge, but no one notices or cares... Or does it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harry's POV

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RiddleSnape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddleSnape/gifts).



He didn't understand, he didn't understand the meaning, the reason, the why, he just didn't understand. He was messed up, messed up so badly that he was like a corpse that moved - not yet dead but neither was it alive.  
Most of the time he pretended, he had gotten very good at it, pretend... until he couldn't anymore.  
He couldn't deal with this anymore. He tried, he really did but he just... and no one, No Bloody Someone, saw it. Yes, he was sadder, but then again he had just witnessed death, so who cared?  
He looked at the back of his hand as blood fell from the wound formed by the blood quill. Such an interesting sight the red falling down his white skin...  
He found himself in the Perfect's bathroom, just like last year, and this time there was no Myrtle or dragon egg. Taking a deep breath - he just had to be stupid to even be pondering this -, he grabbed the small scalpel he had for potions  and took it to his arm...  
The pain was barely unbearable, but he'd felt worse... lots worse.  
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall of the bathtub under water with his head out of water. He started to feel light headed... and then... PAIN!


	2. Voldemort's POV

Voldemort snarled at the feeling that kept hitting his thoughts that wasn't his. For some reason he knew it was Potter - the culprit - but he couldn't understand how and why. Sure, the lad did see someone die before him and got attacked by the Cruciatus Curse, but was it really to the extreme that Dumbledore's Golden Boy started to enter into a depression? Why would the lad contact the Dark Lord of all people instead of his friends?

He'd seen the Dementors, of course. The idiots had dared to attempt at attacking _his_ boy. They had paid the price - just like his followers had learnt that only Voldemort touched Harry Potter.

I must not tell lies

Voldemort frowned as he could clearly see the words written with blood, no better yet wounds written on the back of a hand like a... blood quill. Narrowing his eyes Voldemort forced his mind yo follow the link and there it was, the pink room, cat portraits, blood quill and Potter's attention on the blood dropping from the back of the hand. Voldemort wanted to snarl to take control of the body and... he tensed at feeling the morbid desire to watch the blood rolling down the skin. Yes, the Dark Lord killed for a living... but he didn't get excited at his own blood - that was just plain wrong.

He didn't need to be inside the young wizard's mind to know what he was thinking next. He may want the lad dead, but there was a limit about how much to push a single teenager - and Voldemort knew, he did it for a living!

When he felt the lad cut his wrists he hissed, never been so angry of his inability to enter the school, and forced his mind in the boy's mind and took control before the lad could stop him. He didn't care he caused him pain, reasonings justified the meanings. When he was certain the lad wouldn't bleed to death, he made him dress and go to Hogsmead undetected - he would have to take a look into that map and invisibility cloak on a later day - and, as soon as the lad was out of Dumbledore's protection, he apparated, picked him up and secured him away.

He didn't know how they had a connection and if Harry could also take control of him - although not with those weak occlumency wards he had. The Dark Lord wondered as he laid the lad on his own mattress - forcing a blood potion down his throat - if his old Transfiguration Professor knew how serious the lad was to the point of joining the dark with nothing but a simple words of acknowledge...

Then again, Dumbledore was closed minded to anything out of normal - even if he did saw anything wrong, he wouldn't be able to see anything wrong with it. It had been proven with Voldemort's neglect, Severus' abuse and, now, Harry's neglect at his muggle family not to mention the emotional abuse (which Voldemort knew to be ten times worse than any physical abuse) at the hands of both family and students alike.

The dark wizard finished undressing the lad and started taking care of his wounds, green eyes following his every move behind round glasses. That just showed how bad the lad was, the Harry he'd expected to fight was a lot more vivid and fierce - this one? he wouldn't even care if Voldemort attempted rape.


	3. The Light Side Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End!

Everything started with blood. A week into the first week of school of '95 and in the Perfect's bathroom was found a tub full of blood, not just blood but a person's blood.

It didn't stop there.

Potter went missing, then people started to see the death eaters attack become even more severe and then... You Know Who appeared. Apparently Potter had been telling the truth and no one had believed, leading the poor teenager to suicide. Sure, no body was ever found but where else would the Boy Who Lived be if not at Hogwarts? if not at the only place he considered home? No, Harry Potter was dead.

Before anyone could argue, before the end of the year, You Know Who took control over the Wizardry World. He become it's Minister and no one - not even Dumbledore - managed to oppose him.

Since he'd won, the minister Dark Lord had taken to go to the ministry with a young wizard by his side. There were people who said that they'd swear to have seen Dumbledore attempt at attacking the minister Dark Lord, only to have the young wizard step in between.

No one knew who the lad was for real, some said it was the minister Dark Lord's bodyguard, others His heir and even there were ones who claimed that when they passed through the minister's office one day they could hear the lad's moans. Not that it mattered, he belonged to the minister Dark Lord and - like everything He had - was kept on a tight leash. Until this day only the minister Dark Lord and Dumbledore himself ever saw how the young wizard really looked like.

Not long after backing away from attacking the lad, Dumbledore had been sent to prison - and not any one but the very same where Grindelwald was until this day. With his arrest all possibilities of being freed of the tyranny of the minister Dark Lord was gone.

After five years people got used. He was rough and cruel... but he was just. Unless of course if you dared to look to his heir - or if the lad stared at you - it was immediate death! After hours of constant screaming of course.

Even so people couldn't help but wonder if the lad was all right, he did spend the days with a sad look on his face - then again he lived with You Know Who...

**-OTE-**

Voldemort looked at Harry as the lad played with a knife Voldemort had been offered by one of his death eaters.

"Don't play with that."

"But I like the numbness it gives me." Harry dared to argue.

Voldemort stood and approached him, hovering over him.

"I can give you something better." he argued.

Harry looked back, licking his sudden dry lips. He didn't blush or anything of the genre. He limited to ponder what he wanted to feel more, before he finally looked up to Voldemort's eyes and released the knife. Voldemort pulled him to his minister office desk.

There was no such thing as love between them, but Harry was his and no one - not even a knife - was allowed to take him away from Voldemort. Not that his Harry would try to leave him... Voldemort was the only one - besides blood loss - who managed to make him not feel the height of the emotional abuse he'd suffered along the years.

Harry gasped as Voldemort slithered home, pinning him against the desk. Voldemort was practically assexual but with Harry? this wasn't about sexual pleasure. Oh no, this was much more. This was about making Harry reach completion and be unable to think of anything straight for the next hour, about making Harry be unable to walk straight for the rest of the day with how hard he'd been banged against.

Not that Voldemort didn't do this for himself as well. Oh, the pleasure of filling the boy with his seed, of seeing him walking with his legs apart, of seeing him limping... it claimed Harry Potter - the only one who could still give people hope - as His and there was nothing or no one who could make Harry choose the people over having Voldemort between his legs.

Voldemort smirked at the young wizard bent over the minister's desk, his bottom red from the constant and rough banging of hips against it. Harry was his and all thanks to a suicide attempt.

Voldemort leaned forward and bit on his Harry's neck and Harry tilted his head to give him access - he'd do anything to be completely and utterly claimed. Anything not to think, all thanks to the light who'd pulled him over the edge and  right into the Dark Lord's lap... literally.

**The End!**


End file.
